


Crystal Ball

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse Prevented, Blanket Permission, Fic Exchange, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Podfic Welcome, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-11 07:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: “Something ala The Christmas Carol, where Gabriel is granted visions of his past (Archangel in Heaven), present (Trickster and Archangel on the run) and future (where any chance of redemption is gone if he doesn’t buck up and help out).”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystal Ball

He doesn’t know where the visions come from, since God has been gone for centuries, maybe longer. They’re not dreams. Tricksters don’t dream. They might be memories, but he’s buried what he was before so far back in his mind that it almost doesn’t exist anymore.

But he sees–or remembers...

_Heaven before humanity was created. Before the fighting started. Michael and Lucifer, always together, so close they could be one person. His family at peace, content. His brothers and sisters, those created in the Beginning, glorifying God as it should be._

_The coming of humanity. Looking down on these new creatures that his Father had created and bowing down before them, because it was God’s Will. His brothers and sisters bowing down with him._

_All but one._

_One, who spoke out against the humans, saying they were inferior. Who persuaded other angels to his side, and made war upon Heaven._

_His brothers and sisters dying in the thousands, and his Father creating more to replace them, angels who had never known the serenity of Heaven, only the obscenity of its war._

_Michael, fighting against Lucifer, an expression of pain and betrayal on his face, while Lucifer’s own face was set in unholy rage._

_Michael overcoming him and casting him down, then letting his sword fall and making his way off the battlefield, back bowed._

_His Father disappointed, his brother broken, his family torn asunder. His own hands stained with the blood of his kin._

_Looking down on the Earth and knowing it couldn’t be as bad as it was here. Finding a human whose body could contain him. Feeling it slowly crumbling around him, and taking another, and then another. Finding the other gods and learning from them, how to make a vessel without consciousness, one that could hold him for as long as he needed._

_Throwing himself into the role of a Trickster until he forgot he’d ever been anything else._

_Until he met the Winchesters._

_Knowing who they were right away, but figuring it didn’t matter. Lucifer was sealed in Hell, and it wasn’t likely he’d get out anytime soon._

_He’d liked Sam, when he first saw him. He didn’t do much interacting with humanity, and it was nice to have someone to talk to. It was almost enough to keep him from jerking them around._

_But it’s what he does. And when they find out he’s what they’ve been hunting, the kindness in Sam’s eyes vanishes, replaced with determination._

_Then he finds out Dean’s going to Hell and suddenly he’s not so sure about the finality of Lucifer’s imprisonment. If Dean goes to Hell, if he breaks on the rack, that’s the first seal, the first step to releasing Lucifer._

_There’s nothing he can do about it, though. He can’t break a deal. Even when he was Gabriel, he couldn’t break a deal._

_But he can make sure Sam doesn’t do anything rash._

_So he tries to make Sam come to terms with the fact that Dean’s going to die and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s cruel, he knows that on some level, but it’s for the best._

_Even if, when Sam sees him again, his eyes aren’t kind, aren’t determined, but filled with hatred, as he threatens to kill him._

_And, when he sees him after breaking the time loop, filled with despair. The point he was trying to make hasn’t sunk in. Sam still thinks he can get Dean back somehow, thinks he’ll relent. He’s all earnest desperation and tentative hope, and Gabriel can’t refuse him._

_So he makes a big production of how Sam’s hopeless and he’s digging his own grave, but he brings Dean back._

_And then Dean goes to Hell and Sam breaks the last seal._

_And a few months later when he encounters them again they strip off the mask he’s worn for so long, then have the nerve to ask for his help. He refuses. He’s not killing anyone else._

The vision, or memory, or whatever it was, ends, and Gabriel’s left trying to remember who he is. The words “ _This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family!_ ” ring in his head.

And then he gasps, as he’s thrust into another vision.

_Dean stands alone in an abandoned lot. “Yes, OK? The answer is yes!”_

_There’s a flash of light…_

_Michael, in Dean’s body, faces Lucifer in his crumbling vessel. He falls…_

_Castiel, now completely human, injects something into his arm. Empty bottles lie scattered around him. He picks up a knife, looks at it, then sets it aside._

_This scene repeats, over and over, with Castiel picking up the knife and running a finger thoughtfully along its edge, before going back to his drugs and booze._

_Until, finally, he doesn’t._

Another vision, hard on the heels of the first two, but Gabriel somehow knows that this one and the last one happened at about the same time.

_Sam, standing before Lucifer, with no weapons that could hurt him. “You killed him. You killed Dean.”_

Gabriel shivers at the tone in his voice, quiet and deadly.

_“It had to be done, Sam. It was destiny. Just as it’s destiny that you will say yes.”_

_“You think I’ll say yes to you after that? You’re insane.”_

_Lucifer smiles._

_And starts persuading him._

_And then Lucifer comes after him and kills him. The last thing he sees as he dies is Sam’s face twisted with hate._

When the vision releases him he finds he’s collapsed to the floor, sweating and shaking. He takes several unneeded deep breaths, trying to tell himself that he was hallucinating, and even if he wasn’t, God only knows where the visions came from. But it doesn’t matter. Castiel had killed himself and Sam…

He shudders again. He realizes he doesn’t even care that he died in the vision. He’s tired, wants it to be over. It would almost be a relief to die. But the rest…Castiel, and especially Sam…that makes something twist up in his guts.

He tries again to persuade himself that he shouldn’t trust the visions. But they’d had the ring of truth to them. There’s only one way to be absolutely sure, one way to know for certain whether what he saw would happen. And it means doing something he hasn’t dared to in millennia. He’s been trying to stay off the radar, and this would put up a neon sign saying, “ _Here I am!_ ” with loudspeakers hooked up to it.

But he has to know.

So he skips ahead a few months.

And everything he saw has happened.

***

When he’s back in the present, he thinks furiously. He’s been keeping an eye on the Winchesters since they unmasked him, out of self-preservation. They may be invisible to angels (which is annoying as hell), but all he has to do is keep track of Castiel and he’ll find them sooner or later. The Winchesters can’t kill him, but that doesn’t mean they won’t let the fact that he’s alive and on Earth slip out.

Castiel has been practically destroyed by the fact that God knows what’s going on and doesn’t care, and even though Gabriel already knew, had told him as much, he can’t help being sorry. Castiel is young; he was created after the war was over, and he’d retained some shred of innocence through everything.

Not anymore.

Dean…he’s been acting erratic, even for him. The fact that he was desperate enough to turn to God in the first place is bad enough. Now that that hope’s been dashed, Gabriel doesn’t know what he’ll do.

Sam’s the only one of them left with any hope, and even that is more to keep Dean and Castiel from sinking. He’s just as demoralized underneath, and the gap between him and Dean, which had been slowly closing, is widening again.

They won’t succeed on their own.

***

When he arrives at the Winchesters’ crappy-motel-room-du-jour he’s more or less expecting the reception he gets.

Dean’s got a gun on him before he can blink, snarling, “What the hell are you doing here? How’d you find us?”

He looks over at Sam and Castiel, who both have their knives out. “Is this any way to greet the person who wants to help you?”

“Yeah, right! Like you helped me die a hundred times? Like you helped soften us up for Michael and Lucifer?”

Gabriel knows they have no reason to trust him, but the rejection still stings. It’s why he doesn’t get involved in the first place. “I want to help,” he mumbles again.

“Like hell you–” Dean starts, but Sam cuts him off with a hand on his arm and a murmur of his name.

“Why? I mean before you seemed all gung-ho for the world to end.”

“I don’t want the world to end. I never did. I just…I just want the fighting to stop.” And he hadn’t meant to confess that, hadn’t meant to give the Winchesters that kind of power over him, but of the three other people in the room, Sam was the only one who had anything like an open expression on his face.

Dean’s fists had been clenched and his gun still pointed at him and Castiel had moved in front of him, as if to keep Gabriel from harming him, which was ridiculous. Gabriel could have swatted Castiel even when he was at full-power, let alone now. He _has_ , and the fact that Castiel is willing to still confront him, to go up against anything and anyone to protect the man he gave everything up for, even his own family, even if it kills him, makes a pang go through him. No one would give two damns if anything happened to him. Not anymore.

So he hadn’t meant to say that, but Sam had lowered his knife, even though he hadn’t put it away, his eyes wary but curious, and the words slipped out before he could stop them.

Sam blinks. “So why help us? We’re going to keep fighting. If you want it to stop...”

 _Because I want to make sure that you_ do _keep fighting._ He doesn’t care about Dean one way or another, but his giving up was what made Castiel commit suicide, and threw Sam into a cycle of torture that would break him. He doesn’t want any more of his family’s blood on his hands, even indirectly, and he can’t stand the thought of Sam hurt. Maybe they’ll still fail with his help, but he can’t afford to assume that.

“Because it won’t stop. If Lucifer wins he’ll make war on Heaven, and angels will die. If Michael wins he’ll institute a new order, get rid of anyone who opposed him, and the rebel angels will die.”

Sam considers that for a moment. “Assume we believe you. How would you help?”

“Sam!” Dean protests.

“Dean,” Castiel says, speaking up for the first time, “There is no harm in listening to what he has to say.”

“Wanna bet?” Dean grumbles, but he shuts up, leaving Gabriel bemused at the unexpected support.

“I’m not killing anybody. I’ve killed too many of my family already.”

Castiel looks away, and Gabriel has to swallow back a surge of rage that Castiel’s been forced to sully himself like that.

“So, what then?”

“I might be able to help you force Michael and Lucifer to stop fighting.”

“ _What?_ ”

It’s insane, what he’s considering, and if he actually goes through with it he better hope his Father never comes back, since if he does Gabriel will be in deep shit.

“There’s a ritual that angels sometimes use, to bind themselves together. I could modify that.”

Castiel’s eyes snap to his, shocked. “To force them to do what we want?”

Gabriel grimaces. “Yeah.”

“So, wait, you think this has a chance of working?” Dean demands, turning to Castiel.

His brother shakes his head. “I don’t know. No one has ever even considered something like this before. It’s purely theoretical.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“At this point it is all we have.”

Dean glares at Gabriel. “So what will this involve?”

***

Gabriel’s the one who makes the irons, threading his Grace through the branding sigils. That way at least the wrath will fall on him, rather than Castiel or Sam. Plus he’s the only one who has a vague idea how to do it. If he hadn’t picked things up from Thor and the real Loki, before he decided to retire to what became Bali, even he wouldn’t dare try it. Irons aren’t normally used. When two angels bond they mark each other directly, and there’s no compulsion involved, just joining. He hopes to God this won’t blow up in his face, then hopes He won’t make sure it does, since this isn’t allowed by any stretch of the imagination.

The sigil on Michael’s is different from Lucifer’s. They both have glyphs to keep them from harming the people who trapped and branded them, and glyphs to suppress the Grace of the bearer if they attempted to tamper with them, which should be enough of a deterrent. Lucifer’s has a glyph keeping him from harming humanity or other angels in general, as well as them specifically, and one binding him in his vessel permanently, like the locks demons sometimes used. Michael’s has a modified lock, keeping him in the vessel whenever he comes to Earth, along with the glyph to keep him from harming Lucifer.

Gabriel makes three versions of each of the irons before he’s sure he has it right. The first time he made them backwards, forgetting that the sigils would reverse when the brands were applied. He melts those down, since he doesn’t want Lucifer and Michael compelled to do the opposite of what they’d intended. When he’s done, he makes a duplicate set of irons, then returns to the Winchesters.

“Figured you wouldn’t come back,” Dean says.

“I told you,” Sam mutters, and looks at the floor when Gabriel shoots him a surprised glance.

“Yeah, whatever. You got ‘em?”

“Yep.” Gabriel hands one of Michael’s irons to Dean, and one of Lucifer’s to Sam. Castiel is hovering in the background, refusing to look at either him or what he brought with him.

The brands themselves are about four inches across, the smallest Gabriel could make them and keep all the parts of the sigils intact. The irons are a foot long.

“So now what?” Dean asks, turning the iron over and over in his hands.

“Now we summon them here.”

“ _What?!_ ”

“Oh, come on, Winchester! Can’t brand them if they’re not here.”

“So how do we summon them?” Sam asks.

“Cas can do that. He summoned Raphael.”

Castiel folds his arms, almost glaring at Dean. “That was different. We had his vessel. And,” the glare fades a little, “And I had more power then.”

“I can summon them.”

Dean snorts. “You made the irons, you’re summoning the angels. What do you need us for?”

“I’m going to be summoning my two older brothers, both of whom are going to be royally pissed to be caught. Forgive me if I want backup!”

Dean shakes his head. “Whatever.”

***

The four of them stand around a circle of burning holy oil in an abandoned building. They’re going to summon Lucifer first, since he’s the most immediate threat.

Gabriel has one of the irons, keeping it hot with his Grace. Sam stands opposite him, the other iron glowing in his hand. (Gabriel had wanted Castiel to have the other iron, but Sam had insisted. “I’m the one Lucifer’s after. It should be me.” Gabriel hadn’t has the heart to refuse him.) So Castiel is standing between the two of them, Gabriel’s sword in hand, since his own won’t do anything against Lucifer.

Castiel had blinked when Gabriel gave it to him, since an angel’s sword is an extension of themselves, and they’re never shared. But he’d taken it, with a short nod.

He knows Castiel’s aware of the fact that he just handed him the means to kill him, but he doesn’t say anything, and neither does Gabriel.

Dean’s standing near the wall, a half-complete banishing sigil painted on it. Gabriel would rather not use it unless he absolutely has to, since for one thing it would banish him and Castiel along with Lucifer, and for another he’s not sure of the effect of the sigil on an angel confined in holy fire. It might not work. Or crossing the flame might kill them. He doesn’t want that.

“OK, kids,” Gabriel says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

***

Lucifer appears facing Sam. Gabriel can’t see his face, but his tone is gently reproving. “Sam. What do you expect to accomplish by confining me here?” His eyes flick to Dean, and then to Castiel. “Hello again, Castiel.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything, but his hand tightens on the sword.

“We’re going to stop you,” Sam says.

“All your previous attempts have failed, Sam,” Lucifer says softly. “What makes you think this time will be any different?”

“We didn’t have this before,” Sam says, holding up the iron so Lucifer can see the reversed sigil.

“Where did you get that?” Lucifer demands, and he sounds shocked.

“I made it,” Gabriel says, speaking for the first time.

Lucifer whirls, and his eyes widen slightly. “Gabriel.”

Gabriel feels his face twisting into a bitter smile. “Luci. Long time no see.”

“Why are you helping them?”

“Because I never wanted the fighting. Because it won’t stop unless I do.”

Lucifer takes a closer look at the iron he’s holding. “Michael will still come after me. I won’t be able to defend myself. You’re sentencing me to death.”

“No we’re not. We have an iron for Michael too.”

Lucifer shakes his head slightly. “Gabriel. Don’t do this.”

“Oh, I’m going to. But only if you agree.”

“What the hell?” Dean breaks in. “Why are you even talking to him? Just brand him already!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were against forcing people into things. My mistake.”

Dean seethes, but doesn’t say anything else.

“Why would I ever agree to this?”

“Because Michael’s older than you, and more experienced. He beat you once, and if he gets the chance he’ll kill you. Because if you don’t I’ll figure out a way to seal you up again. Cut you off from everything.”

Lucifer flinches. It’s barely there, but Gabriel sees it. “If I don’t agree you’ll have to do it anyway. You can never let me out otherwise.”

“So we never let you out,” Gabriel says. ‘It’d be boring as hell sitting here for the rest of eternity, but I’d do it.”

“This vessel is crumbling,” Lucifer says. “There’s a lock in that brand. When it gives out completely…”

Gabriel shrugs. “I made these, so I’ll be able to keep track of you. When it starts to go we’ll see about getting you another one.”

“What the fuck do you mean, getting him another one?” Dean demands. “You’re not using Sam, and you’re not kidnapping someone else!”

“I won’t.”

“But–”

“Winchester,” Gabriel says evenly, letting a thread of his true Voice leak into the words. “Shut. Up.”

Dean does.

“So what’s it gonna be? You either let Michael kill you, wait for us to shut you back in Hell or accept the brand and stay on Earth.”

“You’re assuming Michael will win.”

“Oh come _on,_ Lucifer! He’s the one who taught you to fight, of course he’ll win! You know that as well as I do.”

“Michael will never agree to this. He’ll kill you, then come after me.”

“He won’t. If he doesn’t accept the brand I’ll kill him myself.”

Lucifer pauses at that. “Your word.”

Gabriel bows his head. “So given, by the Word of the Father.”

Castiel gasps, and Gabriel feels the bonds of the oath settle around him. It’s the strongest oath an angel can swear, and it will destroy him if he breaks it.

Lucifer nods. “Then I accept.”

Gabriel steps back and gestures to Sam.

Lucifer looks over his shoulder and nods, then takes off his shirt. Sam extends the iron, still glowing with Gabriel’s Grace, across the flames, and presses it to Lucifer’s back.

Lucifer stiffens and hisses as the sigils wrap around his Grace.

Castiel steps forward and extinguishes the holy fire. Lucifer gives Gabriel a last look, then he’s gone.

“What the hell was that?” Dean demands.

“What was what?”

“He _agreed._ ”

“I gave my word.”

“Yeah, like that’s worth anything,” Dean snorts.

“Be quiet, Dean.”

Dean and Gabriel both turn to stare. “…Cas?”

Castiel stalks over to him, his eyes flashing and Dean takes a step back. “The word of an angel is not lightly given, and that oath is the most binding one we can swear to.”

“So?”

“So if I break it it’ll destroy me.”

“ _What?_ ” Sam yelps. “How could you do that?”

“Because he would never have _agreed,_ otherwise!”

“But–”

“But nothing! This is the only way!”

Sam throws his hands up and turns away.

“So what now?” Dean asks. “Do we go after Michael, or…”

“Yeah. As long as Lucifer is branded and Michael isn’t he can go after him and kill him without resistance.”

“But how are we gonna get Michael here? I’m the only one that he can use as a vessel, unless we somehow resurrect Dad.”

“No, you’re not.”

Sam turns back around at that. “What?”

Gabriel shrugs. “I’ll make one.”

“Wait, you can do that? Why bother trying to get Sam and me to say yes if they can make their own vessels?”

“They can’t. I can. As far as I know I’m the only angel who can. One of the perks of having a side job.”

“So the one you’re wearing now…” Sam starts.

Gabriel snorts. “Please. You think I ran away from Heaven and just happened to stumble over my true vessel? I made this body. It was never alive.”

“So when you said you’d see about getting Lucifer a new vessel…”

“I meant I’d make him one, yeah.”

“So, what, you’re gonna _make_ a vessel for Michael?” Dean says skeptically.

“Sure. I’ve made other things. This is just a little more permanent, that’s all.”

“So…theoretically,” Sam says, “You could brand the vessel and summon Michael into it.”

Gabriel presses his lips together. “I could. But I won’t. He needs to be given the choice, same as Lucifer.”

“You’re insane,” Dean mutters.

***

So they set up another circle, like before, except this time Sam’s on the banishing sigil and Dean has the spare iron.

Gabriel focuses on the interior of the unlit circle and concentrates.

Making a vessel capable of holding an angel is more complicated than snapping up his usual figures, and it takes longer.

A general human outline forms, wearing jeans but no shirt or shoes. When the features starts coalescing, though, Dean protests. “Oh, dude, you are not making Michael’s vessel look like our dad!”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever.”

The black slicked-back hair changes to red curly hair, then the eyes shift. (“I never liked blue eyes anyway,” Gabriel says and Castiel glares) and it loses a couple inches in height. “Better?”

“Much.”

Gabriel examines the internal organs and the brain, makes sure everything is put together correctly, and exerts that little twist of effort to make it self-sustaining. The vessel starts breathing, though it still stares blankly.

“Dude, that’s just creepy,” Sam mutters as he comes forward to light the oil.

The oil blazes up and the vessel’s eyes abruptly focus, then widen. “Gabriel.”

He nods shortly. “Michael.”

“Where have you been?”

“Palling around with heathens.”

Michael draws himself up. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, confining me like this?”

“Stopping this pissing contest between you and Lucifer,” Gabriel replies.

“Oh, really? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

Gabriel holds up the iron. “With this.”

Michael’s mouth opens slightly as he takes in the sigil, then his eyes harden. “You can’t do this!”

“I can. Already have once.”

“You’re playing God. You’ll be cast down.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel says flippantly, doing his best to cover the very real fear that that’s exactly what will happen. “If Dad ever comes back.”

“You can’t do this,” Michael repeats. “The prophecy–”

“Prophecy-schmophecy!” Gabriel cuts him off. “Dad _left._ It doesn’t apply anymore!”

“It’s been foretold!”

“Way I figure it, Dad left to see what you’d do. If you’d babysit the humans like you were supposed to, or if you’d trash the place. If he ever does get back you’re all gonna be grounded.”

Michael shakes his head. “I have to fight.”

“Michael. Please. Please accept the brand. If you don’t I’ll have to kill you.”

Michael smacks his hands on his chest. “Kill me then. I can’t fight back.”

Gabriel freezes. Michael had called his bluff. He turns to Castiel, holds out his hand for his sword. Castiel hesitates, but hands it to him.

As he takes the sword he sees Sam slashing his hand, ready to slap it over the banishing sigil, but Dean reacts first.

He presses the still-hot iron against Michael’s back. Michael snarls, whirls and wrenches it out of Dean’s hands, but Gabriel can see the brand standing livid on his back.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Saving your ass!” Dean says, extinguishing the holy oil. As soon as he does, Michael lunges for him, then falls to his knees.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Dean says and Michael growls, getting back to his feet.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he asks, still defiant, but with a hint of uncertainty creeping in.

Gabriel shrugs lazily, to conceal his anger. “I dunno. Go back to Heaven and tell them the Apocalypse is canceled. Go find Lucifer; maybe you two can kiss and make up. Hell, go find a hooker and get laid, I don’t care.”

Michael clenches his fists and takes half a step forward, before he stops, snarls again and vanishes.

“Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?” Gabriel asks Dean in a deadly voice once he’s gone.

“If I hadn’t done that you would have had to kill your brother.” Dean’s shoulders slump suddenly. “No one should have to do that.”

Gabriel’s anger drains away, and he nods. “Point made. But I’m still pissed at you.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“So what now?” Sam asks.

“What do you mean what now? Michael and Lucifer won’t want you anymore. Do what you want.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do?”

Gabriel shrugs. “What I’ve been doing, I guess.” He’s been a Trickster for two thousand years. No reason to stop just because Sam has puppy eyes and stupid hair.

“You don’t have to.”

“What?”

“What?” Dean repeats.

“It’s not over yet, not really. We still have to deal with Pestilence and Death. We could use him,” Sam says to Dean.

“We can’t trust him!”

“Excuse me. Hasn’t him proven he’s trustworthy by now?”

“No,” Dean says flatly.

“Dean.”

And apparently Gabriel’s not the only one vulnerable to Sam’s puppy eyes, because he sighs and relents. “Fine, whatever. But he’s not riding with us. No dicks in the Impala.”

“So?” Sam asks, “You wanna help us take down a couple Horsemen?”

Gabriel nods. “Sure.”

As he follows them out, the building dissolves.

_Sam laughs breathlessly. “Oh my God.”_

_Gabriel grins back at him, still coming down from his own orgasm. “Not quite. But I am flattered.”_

_Sam laughs again and pulls him down into a kiss. “Love you.”_

_Gabriel sighs and settles down next to him. “Love you too, kiddo.”_

“Hey,” Sam says from the doorway, and Gabriel realizes he’s stopped in his tracks. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel says, shaking himself. “Yeah, I’m coming.”


End file.
